


I Know Why We're Here

by BeesForEyes2000



Category: Red Team - Fandom, Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth, rvb - Fandom
Genre: Boys Kissing, Chorus Trilogy (Red vs. Blue), Drinking, Drunk Sex, Grimmons, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Temple of Procreation (Red vs. Blue)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23724706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesForEyes2000/pseuds/BeesForEyes2000
Summary: It's right after the Reds and Blues defeated Felix and Locus in the final battle on Chorus. The whole planet was partying and earlier that night, the gang was getting drunk off their asses and partying for hours on end. When things started to settle down, a group of them decided to play the deadliest party game of all...Truth or Dare~
Relationships: Dexter Grif & Dick Simmons, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank "Doc" DuFresne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Your Turn

**Author's Note:**

> So this trope is definitely done a lot, but hey, I give the people what I would want to read. This is mostly sexual tension Grimmons and some hooking up. My boys just have mad feelings for each other and don't know how to find the words. Enjoy!

The night was wild and it was only getting worse. It felt like the whole planet was celebrating after the defeat of Felix and Locus. Except Simmons. He was still nervous--more than usual. When he thought all was lost and everything was going to come crashing down, he said something to Grif that he thought would be his last words. 

I know why I’m here now, it’s so I can be with you. 

These words echoed in Simmons’ head. What was he thinking? Why did he have to open his stupid mouth and confess something like that. But maybe Grif didn’t hear him and maybe he wouldn’t interpret that as a confession. He could just have interpreted that as a “you’ll always be my bro” type of sentiment. The truth is, Simmons had been in love with Grif since the moment they crossed paths in training camp. Simmons was running on a bridge over an open field high above the ground and being scared of heights, he stopped dead in his tracks. Grif took that opportunity to slack off on the exercise and stop behind him. Grif introduced himself nonchalantly as if nothing was wrong with the situation.  
Although Simmons thought Grif was out of his mind for being so calm, he found it somewhat comforting to have someone else up there to keep him company. And when Grif got transferred with him to BloodGulch Outpost #1, he thought it must have been the best luck anyone could have asked for. Sure, he was kind of an idiot, but he loved that Grif understood him and that they made such a great team. They had been through so much together and their relationship only grew stronger.  
That’s why just a week ago when bullets were flying and the future was uncertain, Simmons needed to let Grif know how he felt. After nearly losing Grif so many times or thinking his own life was coming to an end, he was not going to let Grif go without a proper goodbye. 

But, it wasn’t goodbye. 

Much to Simmons mortifying embarrassment, they both survived. Grif never mentioned hearing anything from Simmons, so the maroon soldier just blocked this incredibly embarrassing moment from his memory

Simmons needed to tell him how he really felt though. How their meeting felt like a true “cosmic coincidence” and that they were meant to be together. Not just as Red Team members, but as partners...romantically. It had taken Simmons years to figure it out, but he realized that he loved Grif. He would get butterflies if he whispered something to him during a mission or if he would say his name a certain way. He loved the way he smelled, all of his stupid comments and his persistent laziness. As much as Simmons feigned annoyance, he even loved when Grif teased him for being a nerd. 

Grif hadn’t been acting any different but he felt like there was a sort of change in his demeanor. He hadn’t roasted Simmons in about a week since everything went down and he’s just generally been opening up about his feelings a lot more. Simmons didn’t make fun of Grif for being open, (because he always wanted to know what was past his surface level of sass) but it felt really out of character for him.  
And now, everyone is sitting around in a circle playing an idiotic middle school game called Truth or Dare. They were all getting way too drunk and stupid. 

Simmons had the feeling that this will not end well.  
\-------  
“Hey Simmons! It’s your turn! Truth or Dare?!” Donut shouted across the room with a martini in his hand. 

Tucker, Donut, Doc, Grif and Simmons sat around in a circle in their base. There was a party that night to celebrate their recent victory on Chorus and everyone else had left but them. Rather than sobering up and going to bed, they all just kept drinking through the night. Everyone was absolutely plastered except for Simmons who had 2 shots so he only felt a little buzzed.  
They were all in no position to be playing a game that could cause so much drama. Simmons had played this game in middle school before and it did not end well. He made a girl cry once because he refused to kiss her! But it wasn’t his fault, he gets nervous around girls! This game was going to be a nightmare. 

“Uhhh...can we just skip my turn?” Simmons replied. Everyone’s eyes were on him  
“Booo that’s so fuckin lame dude! No wonder why you’re still a virgin.” Tucker sneered across the circle. He had a tie hanging around his head in a “frat guy” type of way. He was holding his fourth mixed drink of the night after already having 2 shots of vodka with Grif. How did Tucker even get a tie? They only ever wear body armor…  
“Whatever...fine. Uhhh Donut, truth or dare?”  
“Truth!” Donut cooed.  
“Umm..Is it true that you really think your armor is lightish red?” Simmons questioned. He knew that was probably the lamest question of all time, but he really didn’t want to get involved.  
“Yes! Because it is! I can tell you something else that’s lightish red underneath my armor though----”  
“DONUT! Please! Take it down a notch with the double entendres” Simmons nearly shouted.  
“Oh that’s not the only thing that’s going down---”  
“ALRIGHT I THINK IT’S SOMEONE ELSE’S TURN” Simmons actually shouted this time.  
“Oh yeah, it’s mine!” Grif replied, helping Simmons out of the horrible ordeal that is conversing with Donut in any way. “Umm, Tucker! Truth or Dare?”  
“Aw hell yeah! Dare!”  
“I dare you to...take another shot with me!”  
“Bro you don’t even have to dare me to do that one!” Tucker replied as he immediately picked up the vodka bottle near him and filled up two shot glasses. He handed one to Grif and within seconds they were downed.  
“What? That’s not fair, you guys just wanna get more drunk!” Doc said genuinely pissed at the rule bending of the game.  
“Dude, if you wanna get as drunk as us, just keep drinking.” Grif chuckled.  
“Yeah man, don’t be lame like Simmons.” Tucker said smirking across the circle at Simmons who had his arms crossed during this whole round.  
“What? Come on! Sorry I don’t want a massive hangover tomorrow! I have to get up early and I have work to do.” Simmons lied.  
“What work?” Grif replied.  
“Yeah the fights like...over? That’s the whole reason we’re partying. You’re just being a pussy.” Tucker said. 

The truth was, Simmons really didn’t trust himself to get more drunk. He knew how messy he could get and he’s gotten so close to confessing something he shouldn’t or making a move on Grif when he was that level of intoxicated. If he held himself back from getting too crazy, then maybe he won’t spill any secrets. But something he hated more than anything was being made fun of, especially by Tucker. It’s okay if Grif calls him a nerd, but to be called lame or uptight or a pussy by anyone else was unacceptable. They want “fun Simmons”? They were gonna fucking GET HIM. 

“FINE.” Simmons shot back in annoyance. He got up, grabbed the vodka out of Tucker’s hands and started drinking straight from the bottle. The vodka burned down his throat and he wanted to spit it back out, but he couldn’t be lame. He wanted to show them, show Grif, that he wasn’t just the responsible loser.  
“Wow, Simmons, take it easy,” Grif said with concern.  
“Yeah dude, we were just kidding!” Tucker said.  
“No, you’re right,” Simmons said before taking another long swig of the vodka. “I am being a pussy. But I can have fun too, you guys! Tucker, it’s your turn, right? Ask me the fucking question.”  
Simmons took another drink from the bottle and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. If this were happening any other time in his life, Simmons would have voice cracked every other word of that sentence and his face would have gotten bright red. He was flushed right now, but it was all from the alcohol. He felt cool and confident. For the first time all night, Simmons wasn’t overthinking. He allowed himself to be bold and let loose. The amount that he just drank must have been enough to be another 5 shots and it felt good.  
He stole a glance at Grif and the smirk that was on his face gave Simmons a rush of heat that enveloped his whole body. A fire was lit in his stomach and Simmons could tell that Grif was eyeing him up and down. Maybe Simmons’ newfound confidence was causing this change in attitude, but Simmons was determined to keep that cocky grin on the orange soldier's face. 

“Uhhh...okay?” Tucker said snapping Simmons back into reality “Truth or dare?”  
“Truth! No wait...DARE!” Simmons blurted out. He fumbled back down to a seated position in the circle and the room started spinning.  
“Okay…” Tucker said with a challenging look on his face. Simmons could tell that he was cooking up something good. Something that would really throw off his whole ‘fake bad boy’ vibe Something that he would never do so Tucker could prove that he is, in fact, an absolute pussy. But Simmons was ready. He was ready for anything Tucker wanted to throw at him. Bring it on.

Tucker scanned the room for inspiration. Finally, his eyes landed on Grif.  
“I dare you to recite The Terms and then kiss the prettiest boy here” Tucker said through a fit of laughter.  
“Pfff...that’s nothing, asshole. You guys make me say that shit when I’m sober.”  
“Fine! Well if it’s so fuckin’ easy then I want you to say it while making eye contact...with Grif.” Tucker said, a devious smirk spreading across his face.  
“W-what?!” Simmons replied, voice cracking. His stomach filled with butterflies and he began nervously shaking all over. The alcohol definitely didn’t help. It normally wouldn’t be that big of a deal sober, but Simmons has no filter right now and there’s no telling what’ll come out of his mouth. Simmons slowly looked over at Grif and met his eyes. He was so drunk that he probably didn’t even know what was going on right now anyway. 

Grif looked over at him cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow with a smirk spreading across his face. He leaned back on his arms and crossed his legs, waiting for Simmons to start the humiliation. Simmons could feel the heat rising in his face and throughout his whole body. His heart rate sped up looking into Grif’s dark, intense gaze. Eyes he’s been looking in for years but now with something different, an added note of desire flinted in them. 

“This oughta be good” Grif mumbled to himself. 

Although thoroughly intoxicated, Simmons was still fully aware that this moment was so incredibly risky, that the minute he let himself feel anything more than platonic friendship, he would be so screwed. He felt like everyone was staring at him, but looking around the circle, Donut and Doc had fallen asleep leaning on each other. That at least made him feel a little bit better, but he still felt Tucker’s gaze boring into him from across the circle.  
Simmons took a deep breath and, turning his attention back to Grif, he began reciting ‘The Terms.’

“I would just like to let everyone know that I suck.” Simmons said reluctantly.  
“And?” Grif said, sitting up from his relaxed position. He was getting interested now.  
“And that I’m a girl,” Simmons continued, his face inching closer to Grif’s. His eyes flicked down to Grif’s lips and noticed that he was biting it slightly. Fuck, this was getting way too sexy.  
“What else…” Grif said hanging onto every last word. He was thoroughly enjoying this; Simmons could tell. He leaned in and was about an inch away from Simmons’ face. Grif reached up to Simmons' hair and brushed it back in a sloppy yet rough type of way.  
“And I like ribbons in my hair, and I want to kiss all the boys…” Simmons said at the volume of a whisper this time completely locking eyes with Grif; a blush making its way across Simmons’ face.  
Simmons felt Grif’s hot breath tickling his face and he felt himself closing his eyes, succumbing to the heat of the moment. He leaned in a little further and---

“Oh FUCK!” said a voice from across the room. Simmons snapped out of his haze and looked over only to see Donut hurling directly into Doc’s lap.  
“Ewww! Come on dude! What the HELL?!” Doc yelled as he sprung to his feet leaving Donut’s body to collapse back down onto the floor.  
“Ughhh I don’t feel so good”  
“Dude you got me right in the LAP!” Doc replied. They’d never seen him this pissed off at anything before, I guess nobody likes getting thrown up on; even if they are a pacifist. 

“I’m sorry you guys, I think I had too many drinks” Donut mumbled from the floor looking like he was close to throwing up again.  
Simmons and Grif looked at each other for a moment and instantly looked away.  
“Damn Donut how many fruity cocktails did you have, man? No wonder why you’re hurling-- those girly drinks will fuck you up!” Tucker said whilst standing up and crossing the room towards them. “You have 6 Vodka Crans thinking they just taste like juice and then the next minute, you’re head is in a trashcan and---”  
“Yeah we get the picture, thanks, Tucker” said Doc, his voice dripping with disgust.  
“Oh uhh yeah, my bad” Tucker said “Here, you guys come with me, I’ll get ya cleaned up. Man, just when things were getting interesting.”

Tucker picked up Donut and put his arms around him and Doc’s shoulders. They began walking out of the room and right before they reached the door, Tucker called back, “Don’t have any fun without me, I’ll be right back to see the rest of that dare~” and Simmons could have sworn he saw Tucker wink at Grif on his way out. 

And suddenly, they were alone.


	2. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty NSFW, they don't actually have sex, but they hook up and they're drunk.

A heavy silence filled the air. Without the presence of Tucker as a buffer for the tension between them and Donut and Doc in the corner, the sexual tension began to build even more. Grif didn’t want Simmons to start acting all weird and freak out or something. Grif looked over to try and catch his eye and reassure him that everything was fine, but Simmons was already lost in thought. Even when he’s drunk he’s overthinking. It was cute as hell though. Simmons had a glow of confidence just five minutes ago and it was the hottest thing Grif had ever seen.

The way Simmons basically crawled across the floor and every word dripped with seduction. His hair was all ruffled and out of place and his shirt was loosely hanging off of his body, lightly damp from all of the drinking and partying from earlier. His lips were plump and red and he kept biting them whilst deep in thought...it was a huge turn on. But right now, Simmons was spiraling and before Grif could think about any of that, he needed to save his friend from an impending emotional breakdown. 

“Man, Donut must’ve had a lot of those martini’s, huh?” Grif said awkwardly, and it snapped Simmons out of his thoughts.  
“Huh? Oh uh, yeah...I guess so.” Simmons replied tentatively.  
“Yeah I mean, it seems like he’s more of a lightweight than you, I guess. Look at you, drinking straight out the bottle! Who are you and what have you done with Dick Simmons?” Grif said, chuckling at the end. He looked at Simmons and they held eye contact. Grif’s eye flicked between Simmons’ lips and eyes. They were still seated next to each other on the floor and still so close. But not close enough.

“Y’know, you still never completed the dare…” Grif said, inching closer to Simmons. He was sitting on his knees in front of him.  
“What? Yes I did!” Simmons replied defensively. He was still sitting cross legged in front of Grif with his hands in his lap.  
“No you didn’t! You’re such a liar, nerd.” Grif reached out and lightly punched him on the shoulder. This touch sent sparks coursing through Grif’s body. 

“Well then what else do I have to do then, genius” Simmons retorted leaning in closer to Grif and lowering his voice so it felt like they were the only two people in the world.  
“You never kissed the prettiest boy in the room.”  
At this comeback, Simmons' face flared up bright red. Grif knew that he got him with that one. Simmons loved to play by the rules and to always be right. And if he didn’t, Grif would never let him live it down.

“Ha Ha, asshole, very funny” Simmons said in a mocking, but still visibly nervous tone.  
“Hey dude, I don’t make the rules, I just make sure other people follow them!”  
“Since when?!”  
“Since truth or dare became so interesting.”  
“Well what do you want me to do, Grif, kiss you?” Simmons said.

And a silence fell between them once again. Grif reached up to Simmons' hair and brushed it out of his eyes. His hand came down and caressed his face and his fingers grazed his lips and landed on his chin. Simmons' face was so soft and his breath hitched when Grif’s strong but gentle hands flicked across his lips. And without another word, Grif leaned in and gently ghosted his lips over Simmons’ and finally pressed into a kiss. 

It was everything Grif could have wanted and more, better than he ever imagined. Fireworks went off in his stomach and he was on cloud nine. Finally. Finally he was kissing his best friend. Grif’s hand moved to the back of Simmons’ neck and his other hand cupped his face. Simmons sat there for a moment not moving at all. His hands were still on his lap and his lips were tense and hesitant. Grif was getting second thoughts. Maybe this was a mistake. Did Grif make it weird or ruin the moment? Grif began to pull away from the kiss, but just as he started leaning back, Simmons surged forward to deepen the kiss. His hands immediately found their way to Grif’s chest and he began rubbing his hands up and down. Simmons opened his mouth wider and Grif took that opportunity to stick his tongue into the maroon soldier's mouth. Simmons let out an involuntary moan at this sensation and he tugged at Grif’s shirt in approval. Fuck this was getting hot. Grif felt himself getting turned on and it got really tight in his pants.

Grif broke away from the kiss to reposition himself on the floor and Simmons took that as an invitation to climb on top of Grif’s lap and straddle his hips. But hey, Grif wasn’t complaining. Grif reached out and grabbed Simmons by his hips and pulled him even closer. Grif needed contact and needed to feel Simmons’ touch. Grif reached around and slid his hands under Simmon’s shirt rubbing his lower back and lightly tracing up his spine. He moved his hands around his waist and to his chest. He grazed his nipples with his soft fingers. 

“Oh fuck” Simmons moaned throwing his head back and fluttering his eyes shut.

His breath was speeding up at this sensation and Grif had to bite his lip at this image. Simmons completely undone, a moaning mess in his lap. 

Grif grabbed Simmon’s shirt and took it off before taking off his own. Simmons grabbed Grifs shoulders and kissed him passionately and deeply. He bit Grif’s bottom lip and pulled it out to tease him. ‘How does Simmons even know what he’s doing?’ Grif thought to himself, but before he could even think of an answer, Simmons began kissing his way down Grif’s neck and grinding down onto his crotch. Simmons bit down and latched himself onto Grif skin right where his jaw met his neck. 

“Holy fuck Simmons, that feels fucking amazing” Grif groaned moving his hands around Simmons torso to grab his ass. Grif felt Simmons’ hard cock grinding up against his own and couldn’t help let out another moan. Simmons kissed down Grif’s body and sucked on his neck and collarbone and made his way down to his chest.

“Oh my fucking god” Grif praised, moving his hands to Simmons’ hair. He gave a gentle tug and this time, it was Simmons’ turn to moan in pleasure. 

“Oh, you like that? Who knew the nerd was kinky?” Grif teased and pulled his hair again.

“Shut it asshole, or I’ll leave right now and you can deal with that on your own” Simmons said looking at Grif’s... current situation. 

“Oooo kinky and dominant? Wow Simmons, who knew you were so dirty?” Grif’s hand moved back down to Simmons’ ass and gave it a hard slap. Grif wished that he could have captured Simmons face on camera because the shade of red he was sporting was honestly priceless.

“Oh that’s it!” Simmons said as he pushed Grif backwards flat on his back and pinned his arms above his head. Simmons leaned down and brushed his lips over Grif’s. Grif leaned up to try and catch his lips, but Simmons pushed him back down. Simmons began grinding even harder onto Grif, causing him to whine at the touch. Simmons leaned down and brushed his lips over Grif’s a second time, then a third. 

“Don’t be such a fucking tease, asshole” Grif groaned. 

Simmons took his right hand off of Grif’s wrist and traced it down Grif’s chest. He moved lightly past his stomach and hips until he reached his crotch. Simmons began palming Grif through his pants and leaned in to kiss him on the lips. 

“Jesus Simmons” Grif moaned into his mouth as his eyes screwed shut and his jaw dropped. He began thrusting into Simmons hand and moaning even louder than before. Simmons tightened his grip on Grif’s wrist and deepened the kiss. His tongue explored Grif’s mouth and Simmons moaned at the sight of Grif looking so sweaty and out of breath. God, Simmons thought, he could get used to a view like this. Simmons palmed Grif’s cock faster and rubbed his thumb over his tip.

“Fuck! Oh GOD...” Grif groaned, jerking his hips desperately into Simmons hand. 

“Oh, you like that? Who knew the loser was kinky?” Simmons whispered in Grif’s ear before biting it slightly and kissing and licking down his neck. Grif could only moan in reply. Simmons' hand moved faster and faster and Grif felt Simmons sit up and let go of his wrist so he could touch himself. Simmons’ let out a soft moan as soon as he wrapped his own hand around his cock. From Grif’s angle, he saw Simmons on top of him, sweating and breathing heavily with one hand on his cock and the other on Grif’s. Simmons’ face was flushed and his eyebrows were furrowed.  
Grif couldn’t keep it together for much longer.  
“Simmons, fuck, I’m coming…” Grif said between breaths.  
Simmons leaned down and bit Grif on the neck and that sent him over the edge. Grif came and both of them moaned at the overwhelming arousal. 

“Ugh, fuck, Simmons” Grif said, moaning the maroon soldier's name as he climaxed. At this, Simmons climaxed right after Grif and felt his whole body convulse with pleasure. For a moment they just lied there breathing deeply and looking into each other’s eyes. Grif reached out and grabbed Simmons by the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.  
Simmons climbed off of Grif and lied down next to him, resting his head on Grif’s chest. 

Both of them were out of breath and sweating, but satisfied in what they’d done. Finally after a moment of silence between them, Grif said,  
“You really made me cum in my pants, asshole?”  
To this, Simmons laughed out loud and Grif put his arm around Simmons and pulled him into his chest. 

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m that hot, guess I just got caught up in the moment.” Simmons replied.

“So I’m guessing you weren’t just trying to go the extra mile in truth or dare just to prove a point, right? Grif said smugly.

“You don’t know, this all could have been a trick just to prove to Tucker that I’m cool and not a pussy.”

“Man, if you think jacking off your friends in the dark makes you cool, you’ve got a lot to sort through.”

“Whatever, at least I don’t pretend to be all tough but lose my cool completely as soon as I get pinned down” Simmons retorted with a smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Grif replied. They sat in silence for a moment and Grif stared at the ceiling as Simmons nuzzled into this chest. Their soft breathing synced up and they leaned into each other’s warmth. Suddenly, Grif’s mind began racing with thoughts of life outside of this room. ‘What just happened? Was anyone watching?’ Grif was sent right back into reality with these thoughts and before he could stop himself, he said,

“Hey so, you’re not gonna tell anyone this happened, right?” Simmons lifted his head to look at Grif only to find that Grif was being actually serious. 

“Ummm...I mean I’m not gonna project it on an open channel or something if that’s what you mean.”

“Well yeah, duh, I just mean like, you won’t tell the guys or anything, right?”

Simmons sat up at this question which prompted Grif to do the same. 

“Why do you care if I do?”

“What do you mean why do I care? They’d make fun of us for the rest of eternity!”

“No they wouldn’t! Have you met Donut? He’s the gayest person on the planet! and it’s pretty obvious that him and Doc are hooking up. No one in our squad gives a shit what you do.” 

“Have you seen the way we treat Donut though? He’s practically the human punching bag and like a recipe for gay jokes! I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna be ‘Grif, The Gay One.’” 

“Donut is not ‘the gay one’, asshole”

“Why are you defending him? You hate everything he says!” Grif said getting to his feet and he began yelling this time. The two of them forgot about the fact that it was 3am and the whole building is asleep by now. 

“Because you’re being ridiculous, Grif!” Simmons said standing up and getting in Grif’s face. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone anyway, but God, I never realized how fucking insecure you are.” 

“Oh, I’m insecure?” Grif questioned then began to laugh “I’M insecure? You can’t even talk to a girl without your voice cracking, Simmons! You always need everyone to like you and pat you on the fucking back all the time. Well guess what, at least I have enough self confidence to carry my own weight. Just because I don’t wanna be the butt-end of jokes for the next decade from Sarge and Tucker thinking I’m a fucking fairy, that makes me insecure? Y’know what, I’m fucking done here.”

Grif reached down and picked up his shirt roughly putting it back on. Simmons took a step back from Grif and out of the corner of his eye, noticed Donut wrapped up in a robe, (looking like death from his earlier sickness) and peeking his head into the doorway.

“Uuuhhh...G-Grif?” Simmons started.

“Hey what’s all the yelling for--” Donut whispered whilst rubbing his eyes. But Grif didn’t even seem to notice the pink soldier looming behind them as he started back in on Simmons.

“No, listen to me. I am NOT going to end up like Donut, Simmons. I am not going to be the faggot of the group!”

Simmons grabbed Grif by the shoulders and spun him around only to show Donut standing in the doorway with his pink robe on and matching pink slippers, looking absolutely horrified. 

There was a long shell-shocked pause in which Donut’s face went from stunned to disgusted. Grif looked at Donut and took a step forward. 

“Donut, I-I didn’t mean that. I just got caught up what I was saying and I just---”

“Shut up, Grif.” Donut said,

“W-what?”

“I said shut up. You don’t know anything about me. At all. In fact, I don’t even think you’ve ever taken time out of your ‘all important’ life to hold one conversation with me. So if you wanna go around throwing insults at people behind their backs, I suggest you look in a mirror first before you start making any judgements.” 

And with that, Donut continued on, down the hall and to the bathroom where they heard him subsequently start vomiting again. Neither of them had ever seen Donut like that. He always made at least one joke in conversation but he was being dead serious. 

“Fuck.” Grif whispered to himself

“Nice one, dipshit.” Simmons said, grabbing his shirt off the floor and putting it back on. Grif whipped around to face Simmons and threw up his middle finger.

“Fuck off.” Grif spat. 

“What the fuck if your problem, Grif?” Simmons asked. Grif just shook his head in reply. 

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“No really,” Simmons said, grabbing Grif’s shoulder and making him pay attention. They locked eyes and Grif could see Simmons escalating rage. “I want to know. What the fuck is your problem? One minute you’re drunkenly flirting with me and the next you're ranting about fucking straight you are? Newflash, asshole, you kissed me! And by the looks of it, you seemed pretty fucking pleased with yourself. So tell me Grif, what the fuck is going on?”

“Simmons,” Grif said softly “I can’t do this.” He turned his face away from the maroon soldier and hung his head.

“Do..do what? What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t do this Simmons! This isn’t me, I...this was a mistake.”

“A...mistake?” Simmons' voice got quieter at this word and he took a step back from Grif letting go of his shoulder. Simmons’ confidence diminished and he was back to his usual overthinking, analytical self; only now he was exhausted. This night was endless and what he really needed to do was drink a glass of water and go to bed. But everything Grif just said made him far too nervous to even think about sleeping now. 

“Yeah. I…” Grif paused, searching for the right words to say and how to say them but he ended up blurting out, “ I made a mistake.”

“But...but how can you say that, I mean we just...we just kissed and just, how can you even say that to me right now.” Simmons pleaded. His voice broke at the end and he felt tears of anger pricking in his eyes but refused to let them fall. He can’t let Grif have the upper hand. 

“Simmons I’m sorry, I just have a lot to think about right now and I just need time to process everythi---” 

“You know what you are, Dexter Grif? You’re a fucking coward. You don’t need time to process shit. You know how you feel. But I’m not gonna sit around and wait until you feel like using me. I’m done.” Simmons said and he began walking past Grif towards the doorway. Grif grabbed his wrist.

“Simmons, please. Don’t go. I-I’m sorry.” Grif said, his voice breaking at the end. 

Simmons twisted out of his grip, not looking back. 

“No...you’re not.”


	3. What Do You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning. Simmons runs into Donut and Grif confides in Tucker.  
> Some realizations happen.

Simmons woke up in his bed the next morning not remembering how he got there. His head was pounding from the sunlight beaming through his window into his eyes. Simmons’ mouth felt like sandpaper and his vision was blurry without his glasses, and the spinning room made it even worse. He sat up and tried to remember what happened last night when suddenly it all came flooding back to him. Everything that he and Grif did and more importantly, the way that Grif called it all a mistake. 

Simmons felt a wave of nausea wash over him and he threw his covers off of him and reached for his bedroom trash can. Simmons hurled into the bin and remembered all of the vodka he had drank the night before during that stupid round of Truth or Dare. He was really kicking himself for that one. He did all of that, and for what? To impress Grif? Well that backfired. 

Simmons checked his phone and it was already 1:00pm and he had 3 missed calls from...Grif. What? That can’t be right. After everything he said, why would he want to call Simmons? Y’know what? Fuck him. He can go to hell for the shit he pulled last night. That asshole can take his homophobic bullshit and fuck off. Simmons doesn’t need him or his stupid smirk or his nice smelling clothes and sexy hair. NOPE. He doesn’t need any of that. Simmons pulled down the notifications tab on his phone and without actually clicking on the texts, (Grif and Simmons have each other on read) he looked over each one. 

MESSAGES: 

Dumbass in Yellow: Hey, I’m really sorry about last night. (Sent at 8:31am)  
Dumbass in Yellow: Simmons…? (Sent at 8:32am)  
Dumbass in Yellow: Please text me when you get these. (Sent at 10:09am)

Simmons’ heart skipped a beat. Grif never texted Simmons. Especially not about his feelings or showing any sort of vulnerability. Plus, they never needed to text, they were with each other ALL the time. 

Simmons wanted to respond right then and there, but decided it would be best not to and instead turned his phone off all the way. Simmons cleaned himself up, changed his clothes and headed out of his room down to the kitchen. 

“Simmons! You’re up! Finally! I really thought you were dead.” Donut chirped as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table to greet the maroon soldier. 

“D-Donut? How do you have so much energy right now?” Simmons asked, completely taken aback by the harsh greeting and radiance Donut exuded. 

“Oh yeah, last night was ROUGH! I mean, I think I lost at least 3 pounds just from throwing up so much alcohol,” Donut replied with a smile and Simmons put a hand over his mouth. Just the thought of alcohol right now made him feel uneasy again. 

“But I’m feeling much better now! Drank water, ate some bread and took a LOT of painkillers. Eggs, bacon and toast?” Donut said, offering Simmons a plate of breakfast.  
Simmons felt another wave of nausea creeping up his stomach, but he took a deep breath and let it pass,  
“No, that’s okay...thanks. I’ll just stick to water.” There was a bit of an awkward silence before Simmons decided to confront Donut what was on his mind. “Hey Donut, um...about last night--”  
“Water under the bridge!” Donut replied instantly in an overly-enthusiastic tone

“R-really?” Simmons asked, thoroughly confused by his newfound attitude.

“Of course! I know how you guys can be with your little fights and hey, if you say some things you didn’t mean, it’s all just from the heat of the moment, right?” Donut said with an eerily positive tone. Simmons was tempted to ask him how he was actually feeling, but before he could, Donut quickly changed the subject.

“Hey Simmons, can I ask you a sort of personal question...?” Donut said as he sat at the table across from Simmons. 

“Uhh, yeah sure.” Simmons replied, taking a large gulp of his water.

“Are you and Grif together?” Donut said and Simmons spat his water and choked a little coughing it up.

“W-what?” he said between gasps

“Y’know, like...dating? Boyfriends?” Donut continued, seemingly unphased by Simmons’ reaction.

“Uhh we’re not...I mean he’s not-- and I, well we’re---” Simmons sputtered, trying to find the words. His face slowly became more and more red as his heart rate sped up at the very idea of Grif and him being more than friends.

“Oh,” Donut said, realizing the situation, “well I just assumed by the way you guys were looking at each other last night that you had been together for a really long time. You two act like an old married couple.”

“Uh-huh” Simmons half replied, falling deep into his own spiral of thoughts. Had they been that obvious last night? Were they really that flirtatious? 

“But hey, if you guys aren’t ready to become an item, I totally understand! It’s hard to make that leap. Between you and me, you deserve better anyway.” Donut said getting up to get some coffee. This snapped Simmons out of his thoughts and back into reality. 

“Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean.” Simmons said, feeling himself get defensive. He knew that Grif could be a dick sometimes, but that was still his best friend that Donut was talking about. 

“Oh come on, Simmons, you know what I mean! A guy like that will never be comfortable being gay in public! You think Grif is gonna hold your hand and kiss you in front of other people? We both know the answer to that.” Donut replied whilst fixing his coffee in a very upbeat manner. Was he trying to piss Simmons off or something?

“You’re...you’re wrong!” Simmons protested, as he stood up from the table to make his point clear.

“Wow, wow, take it easy. I get that he’s your friend and all, but just think about it. He’s nice to you now, but is he really boyfriend material?” Donut said, stirring his coffee with a winning smirk on his face. 

Although he wanted to fight it, Simmons knew deep down that Donut was right. Grif was super insecure and unable to articulate his feelings. There was no way that Grif would ever confront being gay, let alone admit any feelings he may have for Simmons. God, why did Grif have to say all that stuff about their hookup being a mistake? Why did they hook up at all? Maybe Grif was right. If anyone found out, they would be the laughing stock of the squad. Simmons wanted to tell Donut everything that happened the night before just to have someone to talk to. He wanted to confess that life sucks right now and that he wished he could undo the last 24 hours. But all he could manage to say was, 

“Grif is not my boyfriend.” 

And he left the kitchen, storming back to his bedroom. 

\---

“Dude wake up! It’s already like three in the afternoon.” Tucker said pounding on Grif’s door. “Come on man, we’re supposed to have a meeting with everyone in like an hour to talk about all the post-war bullshit.” Tucker pounded on Grif’s door again and Grif tightened the pillow over his ears and rolled over.

“Ugh, go away. Tell them I’m sick or something” Grif replied.

“Sick? No way man, we’re ALL hungover from last night that’s not an excuse. Y’know what, I’m comin’ in.” Tucker said as he twisted the door handle and barged into Grif’s untidy room. 

Grif groaned again as he pulled his blankets over his head. Not only did he feel like shit from the alcohol the night before, but even more so from everything he said to Simmons. He woke up super early that morning and immediately texted Simmons. Then again. Then a third time. And also called him a few times. After the fifth call, he decided to give up and wallow in his misery. He concluded that Simmons was never going to talk to him again and he’s better off just lying in bed for the rest of forever.

“Man, you look like shit. What the hell happened to you?” Tucker said sitting at the end of Grif’s bed. Tucker looked around before whispering to Grif, “Weren’t you gonna make a move on Simmons after I left?” 

Tucker had known about Grif’s crush on Simmons for YEARS. Even way back in Blood Gulch. He always told Grif and Simmons separately that they should make a move on the other. Finally, last night, Tucker had mentioned that Simmons wanted to kiss Grif at the post war party. Simmons, of course, did NOT actually tell Tucker this information (because why would he ever trust Tucker with something like that?) However, Grif took this tip from Tucker and made sure that they all ended up playing Truth or Dare together and that he gave Simmons a lot of signals throughout the night. The plan actually did work out perfectly, but Grif and his stupid mouth messed the whole thing up. 

“It didn’t exactly...go as planned.” Grif said, shame and embarrassment rising in his gut. It was obvious that Grif had been crying, as his eyes werepuffy and he was sniffling.

“What do you mean? Did you fuck something up? I need details!” Tucker implored.

“Well, we hooked up…” Grif said hesitantly whilst sitting up in bed.

“Yeah?”

“And it was really nice! I mean REALLY hot like we were getting into it, dude. He was all over me and I felt like there was like an electric pulse between us.”

“Oooo, bow chicka bow wow, bro! This is getting good! I am the ultimate wingman.”

“Yeah, GOD it was going great! But after we were...finished...I asked him to keep it a secret.”

“Wow, why’d you do that?” Tucker said, wearing the same skeptical face that Simmons had the night before.

“Because, man,” Grif said, running his hands through his hair in distress “I just, didn’t want you guys finding out.”

“I mean I get that, but did you ask him how HE felt about it?” Tucker offered. 

Grif made a face of embarrassment that immediately turned into regret. “No…”

“Okay, so you hooked up with him then basically told him you were ashamed of hooking up with him, is that right?” Tucker concluded. Grif let out a sigh and flopped back down on his bed.

“Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I said that I didn’t want to be seen as ‘the gay one’--”

“But you ARE gay” Tucker interjected.

“Well yeah, but I like chicks too! And I’m not into all that rainbow bullshit I just...like what I like, y’know?” Grif rambled.

“Uh...dude? First of all, that’s super offensive. Gay people aren’t just rainbows; they’re people too. Even I know that, and I’m not even a part of this situation. Second of all, you can still like girls even if you like a guy. You can just like both.”

“Yeah, alright whatever.” Grif said. He knew all of that already but he didn’t want Tucker thinking he was lame or something. 

“So back to the story, what happened that made you get all teary eyed” Tucker said chuckling at the end and reaching out to fake-wipe Grif’s tears. Grif slapped his hand away and sat back up to face Tucker.

“I uh...well I may have ended up calling Donut a...a faggot.” 

“Wait, WHAT?” Tucker said, his face changing from playfulness to deep concern. 

“Yeah…” Grif replied whilst fidgeting with his fingers nervously.

“Why would you say that? And when did Donut get there? Did you at least apologize?” 

Tucker exclaimed, as he got up and began pacing the floor. 

“I know, I know. I fucked up and shouldn’t have said that. And I don’t know, Donut was just walking by and happened to overhear the conversation.”

“Dude, that is not just like, banter or something, that’s like, MEAN mean.” Tucker said.

“I know! I don’t know why I said it but it will never happen again. I guess I was just feeling really...insecure.” 

Tucker stopped pacing and looked at Grif when he said that. Grif never admitted when he was wrong and usually remained under the impression that everything he ever said was justified. But Grif knew that he really messed up this time and Tucker saw the genuine guilt in Grif’s face. Tucker sat back down on Grif’s bed and Grif knew he was going to want to find out the end of the story.

“So then, I was fighting with Simmons and I said I needed time to think about everything and what I want, and he said that was a bullshit answer and he left the room.” 

Tucker opened his mouth multiple times like he was going to say something but ended up closing it, still searching for the words. Finally after processing the story, Tucker said, “Well, what DO you want, Grif?” 

This was the last thing that Grif thought Tucker was going to say. He expected yelling or being told that he was an idiot for screwing up or even that he ruined Tucker’s perfect plan. But to this question, Grif’s mind went blank. Not a single sarcastic phrase or witty comeback came to mind. 

“I…” Grif started. He realized in that moment that he knew all along what the answer was, is and always will be. 

“I want Simmons.”


End file.
